The Chain
by aFineMess5
Summary: N/CC. See Author's Note. Sort-of-continuation of my other story, "Say Goodbye." Please read and review; your reviews are the reason this story is here. So hopefully, you like it.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything from "The Nanny," and I'm just borrowing snippets of Ingrid Michaelson's song, "The Chain," which can be found on her 2009 album, "Everybody."

Author's Note: I'd like to dedicate this story to the reviewers of my other fic, "Say Goodbye." I was bound and determined (repeat for emphasis: BOUND and DETERMINED) to not continue that story. The masochist in me loved the unhappy ending. But the reviews made me rethink it, and you can thank "cathlynn christine" and her review for finally convincing me to write a continuation. That being said, I'm not adding this as another chapter in respect for those who liked the ending the way it was. Those who didn't, here is your continuation. I'll also take this opportunity to apologize for a) this story being crappy, as I wrote it in one day, and b) including song lyrics, but I figured I had to pay homage because that song inspired this story.

The Chain

CC Babcock exited the theater, thoroughly annoyed. It had taken two years and four flops before Maxwell Sheffield had been able to coax CC back into the theater business. Despite the length of her absence, it had been remarkably easy for her to return: the only stipulation had been that she wouldn't work from the mansion. Maxwell had shown unprecedented compassion in merely nodding succinctly and refusing to question her.

The request had been futile, ultimately. Niles had resigned weeks after CC had and while she'd assumed, she had never asked.

Leaves crunched under her feet as she ambled toward the coffee shop on the corner. She hated to be the New York cliché, but her lunch hour more closely resembled a "lunch half-hour-but-actually-twenty-minutes." She pulled open the door with a light _ding_ and breathed in the sweet, doughy aroma.

"Afternoon, Miss Babcock," the young man behind the counter said.

CC smiled guiltily; she'd been frequenting the shop for eight months and had seen his nametag four times a week, and yet she could never recall his name. "Hello hello."

"The usual?" he asked, pulling the short pencil from behind his ear to make a note on his pad.

CC nodded and handed him (nametag: "Nathan") her AmEx. "Thanks, Nathan."

"I'll bring it to your table soon," Nathan promised.

CC took her usual table in the corner, affording her a panoramic view of Broadway through the slightly misty window. She took her dog-eared script out of her leather shoulder bag, along with her favorite red pen. Gnawing the cap between her teeth, CC read through Sheffield-Babcock's latest production for the umpteenth time, using her weathered producer's eye to make notes in the margins.

She paid no attention as the bell above the door chimed, though her eyes snapped up as the ever-familiar British baritone requested a chai latte to go. Blood began pounding throughout her entire body and a whooshing sound filled her ears. She forced herself to stare at the script, knowing how likely it was he'd see her if she continued staring at him.

Niles gazed at the menu written in chalk above the various, complicated machines behind the counter. He'd never visited this small coffee shop, despite its closeness to his restaurant. And as he pivoted to glimpse the rest of the small café, he realized why.

CC Babcock, the angel of his dreams, the demon of his nightmares, sat at a small table in the corner, poring over a script. He debated whether or not to talk to her until the young man who'd taken his order delivered a sandwich and lemonade to her table. She looked up to thank Nathan but managed to lock eyes with him instead.

Their eye contact lasted for an interminable time until Nathan cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me, sir, here's your latte."

Niles spun around to take it from him, thanking him at the same time. In the time span of five seconds, Niles managed to have an entire silent argument with himself.

_She walked out on you, old man_, he reminded himself. _You should do the same_.

And yet even as he told himself this, the link between them, however rusty, remained strong.

"Hello," Niles greeted, halting a few safe feet from her table.

"Hi," CC replied.

"How…how's everything?" Niles asked. He'd intended to be glib and ask how marriage was treating her, but he noticed that her ring finger was bare.

"Busy," CC said. "Opening night's in a few weeks."

"I heard you were working with Maxwell again," Niles told her. And with that, he'd taken the plunge: he'd volunteered to be the first to admit he'd looked into her current whereabouts.

"Maxwell?" CC echoed. "So you aren't working for him anymore?" It hadn't taken much to figure it out, but CC couldn't help but pretend that she hadn't cared to figure out what his life was like without her.

"No, I'm not," Niles replied. In more civil conversation, he'd continue with what he was doing currently, but he was determined for her to ask. He waited a few more seconds before conceding defeat. "It was good seeing you, then. Good luck with your play."

He turned to leave and before she could rationalize herself out of it, CC blurted, "Niles…"

Niles closed his eyes for a split second, reveling in hearing his name on her lips once more, before he turned back to her, stony-faced. "Yes?"

"Just stop it," she snapped. "Yes, this is awkward, but that doesn't mean you need to act like I'm some stranger."

"Aren't you?" Niles retorted.

CC paused. That stung. "Maybe I am," she allowed. "Either way, there should still be some semblance of civility."

"As though we were ever able to keep a civil tongue," Niles reminded.

In days past, CC may have replied with a saucy remark playing on his use of the word "tongue," but CC had to remind herself that things had changed. This, in itself, surprised her. Had it really been two years since she'd seen this man?

Niles saw a troubled look pass over her face and decided to go for it. "How's marriage, then?"

CC looked him square in the eye and he knew he'd crossed whatever lines still remained for them. "I wouldn't know," she replied coolly.

"I knew no man could stomach you for an extended period of time," Niles joked in an attempt to begin a more lighthearted conversation.

"You certainly couldn't," CC replied grimly. "And your assessment isn't far from the truth."

Niles took a sip of his latte, the bitterness waking his taste buds. Loath as he was to bring up their last encounter where she'd broken his heart for the last time, damnit, as he'd declared, Niles couldn't reign in his curiosity. "Last time I saw you, Babcock, you were wide-eyed and white-dressed on the rooftop of the Plaza."

"Yes, I was," CC agreed.

Niles felt himself becoming annoyed with this woman again. However frustrating she was, he couldn't help the comfortable familiarity that bloomed with his exasperation. "So what happened? The princess found a pea in her million-dollar bed and called for divorce?"

"As I understand it, you can't get a divorce if you were never married," CC said.

"Such an astute legal mind," Niles quipped. "What happened, then? You called it off?" Niles kept his voice as bland as possible, but a damnable hope flared in his chest.

"He did," CC explained simply.

Two years had passed, and yet Niles still felt burned by her insistence on marrying another man. Had the lucky bastard gone through with it, Niles knew she'd still be married to him, if only out of pure stubbornness.

"Why?" Niles inquired.

CC gripped her red pen tightly. Of the many, many people who'd asked her that very same question, CC had never been more tempted to tell the truth. Instead, she gave her classic response: "He said it just wasn't right. So he called it off."

"In front of everyone?"

CC shook her head. "When the attendant swung open the door, he was on the other side. He said what he had to say, and then it was over."

Niles stared at her. During their slightly short-lived relationship, Niles had experienced a maelstrom of emotions directed at the hellish blonde in front of him, but he'd never felt as though he hated her. As he stood across the table from her in the otherwise empty coffee shop, Niles came pretty damn close.

So she'd never gotten married. Minutes after she'd walked out of his life for what he'd assumed was forever, the proverbial "other man" had shut her out of his. She could have gone back to him. She could have run after him in her gorgeous wedding gown, something straight out of a Julia Roberts romantic comedy, and set everything right. For not the first time, CC had been able to fix their relationship and, once again, CC had elected to take the other path.

CC looked at him guardedly, intuitively knowing his thoughts. He certainly wouldn't have guessed that CC agreed wholeheartedly with him and had been punishing herself for it ever since. But this was their relationship; the blame for ruining it passed back and forth between them like some sort of demented Olympic torch.

"I'm sorry your perfect marriage never took off, then," Niles finally managed to say. His voice dripped with acidic sarcasm, burning holes in the bridge between them.

"Niles-"

"Truly, I wish I'd known. I could have sent a condolence card." He gulped down more of his latte, barely tasting it.

"Niles-" CC tried again.

"Do they make such cards? 'Dearest Cinderella: I'm sorry your prince didn't come through for you.' I daresay they should. You can't be the only blue-blooded harpy alone in a tower," Niles continued.

"That isn't why he called it off," CC admitted quietly. Her eyes remained fixed on an invisible spot on the table.

Niles' brain paused momentarily and listened to her. His curiosity piqued again and despite his internal rage, he closed his mouth and signaled for her to continue.

She saw his motion out of the corner of her eye and exhaled loudly. "He said he knew I was in love with another man and that it wasn't fair to anyone if we got married."

At this, his brain shut down altogether. The more logical part of his mind would have pointed out that Niles was as angry with her as he was with himself, but his supremely illogical heart possessed the entirety of his attention.

"Interesting how everyone but _you _seemed to pick up on that," Niles spat. He tossed his empty cup into the trashcan with a _clang_ and turned back to her. The light mist forming in her eyes evoked no sympathy from his empty ones. "See you around, Babcock."

She looked up in time to see his back retreating down the sidewalk.

_I'll never say_

_I'll never love_

_But I don't say a lot of things_

_And you, my love, are gone_

The penthouse door swung shut behind her and Chester bounded to her feet, hopping insanely in an effort to be noticed. CC afforded him one affectionate look before waving him off, making a beeline to the bar next to her fireplace. Expertly combining her vodka and soda, CC sidestepped her glass-topped coffee table and collapsed on her sofa. Chester jumped up beside her and curled into a ball, immediately closing his eyes.

"Rough day?" CC asked, scratching him behind the ears. Chester flicked one ear in response.

Sliding her feet out of her pumps, CC hung her toes in the edge of the coffee table and stared off into space. Of the many reunion scenarios she'd thought up in her head, she hadn't planned on it going so spectacularly wrong. Part of her had known she should have stuck with her original story about why the wedding hadn't taken place, and yet her vehement desire to tell him the truth, to indirectly tell him that she still loved him, had won out.

And, as usual, her heart had led her in the wrong direction.

She had never considered herself to have a particularly fulfilling life. She supposed that the salary she earned with Sheffield-Babcock Productions would be more exciting had she not been born into money, and the priceless antiques and works of art she'd accumulated were only serving to accumulate dust. She hadn't made many lifelong friends, and the closest she'd come to feeling part of a family was with the Sheffields. Even then, she wasn't wanted.

But those moments, those shine-as-bright-as-the-sun moments, when Niles looked at her, she'd been wonderful. She'd been needed, appreciated, loved. Even when he'd been annoyed as hell with her, her heart still warmed at the thought that someone paid enough attention to be irritated with her. Today, her skin had burned where she sensed Niles' eyes were lingering a fraction too long. Niles made her feel alive when her entire life, she'd felt nearly the opposite.

But it was over, CC had to remind herself. Though it had essentially been over for nearly three years, CC still forced herself to remember that it was finished. Niles was no longer a part of her life, and yet there was something that connected her to him and seeing him today reminded her of that.

She took a slow sip of her drink, letting it gradually burn her throat. _If he won't be around to make me feel alive, I'll just have to find something else that will_, CC vowed silently. Raising her drink in a mock toast to herself, she downed the rest of it in one gulp.

Then she nearly choked when a tentative knock sounded. Chester sat up, ears perked, staring at the door. The two shared twin looks of confusion as CC set down her glass and walked toward the door. She stood on her tiptoes and peered through the peephole; her heart began pounding when she saw Niles on the other side. CC slowly lowered herself to the ground and bit her lip in anticipation, reaching her hand up to slide the chain off the door.

_And if you come around again_

_Then I will take, then I will take_

_The chain from off the door_


End file.
